


Sting

by Karhu



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe, And there's even a bakery for all of your domestic bakery thirsts, Assassin Husbands, Gen, Guardian Angels, M/M, Revenge, Undead Monsters, Underworld
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-09
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2018-02-24 10:43:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2578709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karhu/pseuds/Karhu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And of course, even way out in the sticks, Eren had somehow managed to earn a bounty over his head, all the while sending the entire town of Duckwall into its own special little Armageddon by becoming one of the lost boys whose <em>"Have You Seen Me?"</em> photos were plastered on the backs of every last milk carton across the country.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sting

Being dead wasn't all that bad.

It definitely had its perks. Such as, right after Eren died, he was allowed to stay home from school for an entire month. His teacher hadn't even made him catch up on his missed assignments. Not to say that preschool level homework was a challenging task in the first place, but it was a nice break. He received what seemed like one million teddy bears in the mail, and his mom even let him eat ice cream for dessert every day for an entire year. That was the best part, Eren decided, because ice cream was usually reserved for Saturday nights only. 

Even a couple of big time news companies interviewed him, which he thought was pretty cool. Well, except for the million dollar question that was stapled to end of every discussion.  _What was it like?_ _  
_

Truth be told, Eren didn't remember a damn thing about being dead. For all he cared, he just fell asleep for a couple of minutes. No big deal. He didn't remember the pain of how he got there, or the feel of the electric shock that had brought him back.

But what he  _does_ remember, not like any of the adults acknowledged this part, was someone being there with him in the void of the afterlife. The details of it all were fuzzy, but he recalls someone sitting with him in the darkness, promising him that he'd be fine and that there was nothing to worry about. During Eren's short stay there, the two of them had even played a quick game of tag. Even though the person who was playing with him was clearly older than he was, Eren easily won their game.

Eren, not even feeling winded from the match like he normally would've after so much running, had asked his new friend to return to the real world with him.

They smiled and promised that they would.

And they did.

"Imaginary friends are quite normal," several doctors had assured Carla, who'd been worried sick since Eren picked up the odd habit of talking to himself. "He's just coping with the accident. Children deal with traumatic experiences and loss of family in peculiar ways." 

Nevertheless, Eren was assigned a therapist. It took a couple of years, and a lot of fighting on Eren's part, but by the age of six, his postmortem friend was nothing more than a forgotten relic that was forced into the back of his memories. 

It was at the young age of seven when Eren realized that his father wasn't simply, as Carla had put it,  _visiting family up north._  

Thanksgiving day, and Bambi was playing on the television while Carla was preparing dinner in the kitchen. It seemed as if his entire family was at their house, milling around, chatting over wine and sharing stories of the summer. The adults were lounging about while the kids were on the floor, playing with wooden trains and only paying half attention to the movie.

Although he doesn't like to admit it, Eren would always cry when Bambi was on. He couldn't imagine losing his mother like Bambi had. He couldn't imagine her being gone forever. He couldn't imagine her being there one moment, then being gone the next...

The epiphany of it all hit him like a freight truck. His wails filled every last crevice of the house. Within seconds, the caboose that he was playing with collided with the wall, cracking into tiny pieces shortly before a vase that was within his reach had suffered the same fate. One of his uncles was forced to pin him down before he could ruin anything else. He'd then later swear that his tears had left stains in the carpet.

He remembered, that for the second time in his short life, he'd woken up in a hospital. In the corner of his temporary room, he swore that he saw his imaginary friend from not too long ago. The thought of him having died for a second time, as if it were a normal occurrence, had crossed his mind. He called out to his friend, and was later scolded by his family members for not crying out for his mother instead.

Eventually, they had packed up and moved. Carla had stated that a fresh start would be good for them. That it'd be just the two of them, two peas in a pod, living life happily in a smaller town.

They left the shores of Orgeon behind and fled to Nevada. They ended up in the town of Duckwall, a place where none of the buildings were more than two stories tall, and the vast majority of them were vacant and rotting away. Eren had heard stories about the apparently haunted mining town, and he was certain that there were more conspiracy theories about the place than actual people living there. 

Adjusting to life in a town that was just big enough to harbor one singular traffic light was hell. Eren always felt like crying at night, but he would do his best to hold it in and hide it from Carla. She seemed happy there, in the rural dust pit where everyone knew everyone, and the quintessence of entertainment was to to watch that one stupid traffic light flicker to the humdrum beat of the cicadas that were sent straight from the ninth circle of hell.

In Duckwall, it felt as if pigs flew by more than the years did. 

When he was seventeen, a couple of his friends had convinced him to run away with them. They'd hated the town as much as he did, and Eren figured that's why they all got along so well. They weren't the type of people his five year old self would have ever seen his current self hanging out with, though; they were all sketchy as hell.

Annie and Reiner were half siblings, of sorts. They'd explained it all to him before, something about technically being fourth cousins, thrice removed, with just a hint of dicey divorces and shady bloodlines. The rest  of the story was just an absolute mess, so he decided not to question it further. The both of them had sensitive eyes, which meant that more often than not, they were wearing sunglasses. That factoid had led to them being the mockery of insinuated inbreeding, which had earned them ridicule from some of the other kids their age, but Annie would always put those who slandered her name back in their place. She was good at those sorts of things.

Then there was Bertolt, or just Bert for short. He has admitted time and time again that he fears Annie, but that the friendship he shared with Reiner keeps him around. Though never considered the odd man out of the group, he was always referred to as the strange one. He wasn't weird because he was quiet. He wasn't weird because he was tall and lanky, with what he described as an "awkward nose". He wasn't weird because he sweated more than a sinner in church who probably used up twelve sticks of deodorant every hour. He was weird because liver was his absolute favourite thing to eat. Chopped liver. Fried liver. Roasted liver. And if it wasn't liver, it was always something raw. Thankfully, Bert had gotten into the habit of carrying a container of breath mints in his pocket.

The plan of escaping Duckwall had been initiated as quickly as it had been brought up. The specifics of survival weren't there, but they decided to go through with it anyway. The runaways packed their schoolbags with everything but books, said sayonara to their misery, and hit the road. They all knew that they'd only last for so long, but the feeling of freedom and a change of scenery was enough to sway them into leaving.

None of them had their licenses yet, so they hitchhiked- gladly going anywhere anyone would take them. They ended up going north and away from the desert lands, which was nice. They survived on the blind generosity of strangers who transported, fed, and sheltered them. The understanding of teenagers who were just trying to get away from it all was surreal, but Eren was thankful for it.

Some parts of their journey, of course, weren't all gumdrops and rainbows. Eren recalls one night in particular where they were soaked to their cores from being caught in a storm that afternoon.  It was dreary, they were chilled to their bones, and Eren longed for nothing more than a change of clothes. The miserable little lot of them hunkered down at a sheltered bus stop and willed for morning to come.

It took its sweet time, but eventually it did. And when it did, Eren woke to someone prodding their shoe into his shoulder. He opened his eyes to see a girl standing over him. She seemed to focus only on him, completely ignoring the others in his group. 

She wanted to know if he was okay.

Eren rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and said that he was cold, but otherwise fine. He turned to his friends that were just now stirring themselves awake. The girl was telling him something, most likely something important, but he wasn't listening. He was too preoccupied with gathering his thoughts. 

"Well?" she asked.

"Sorry, what?"

The girl sighed and demanded that they all return to her apartment with her. They agreed, but only on the condition that she supply them breakfast. The five of them walked back to her place in silence, both parties trying to gauge who the others were. Eren noted that her short black hair and thick eyeliner made her look like a tame Siouxsie Sioux. When he shared his thoughts, the girl only shrugged while stating that Siouxsie seemed like a cool person.

Fifteen minutes of awkward group walking later, the girl had decided to introduced herself as Mikasa. Eren gave her his name, as did Reiner and Bertolt. Annie supplied an alias.

By the time they reached Mikasa's apartment, Eren's stomach was growling loudly. They all sat down at her table that was decorated with nicks and scratches, completely ready to dig into whatever Mikasa was willing to offer, when she announced that she only had stale cornflakes. 

The runaways sighed collectively, ultimately let down, but decided to accept her expired food anyway. It wasn't like they had any better options.

Mikasa handed them spoons and bowls before setting the cereal box on the table. She then slammed the carton of milk down in front of Eren, which had made him jump in his seat. The malice in her action was clear as day. Eren asked what her deal was. She responded by demanding that he look at the back of the carton. He took the container in his hands, then choked on his spit when he saw himself plastered on the back of it.

The same picture that was on his school I.D. was now on the back of Mikasa's breakfast essentials, right underneath bright red letters as if _he_ were the one asking the entire country _Have You Seen Me?_

Eren looked over at his friends in bewilderment. Annie mouth twitched for only a second, Reiner shrugged, and Bertholdt chewed on his lip before looking down at his bowl. He'd only just noticed how tired they all looked. Bags underneath their eyes, hair unkempt, clothes wrinkled. His stomach sank as he accepted their fate.

It was time to go home.

He asked if he could borrow Mikasa's phone, but it turned out she didn't have one. She claimed that the bill would be too expensive, though he would later learn that it was really because she had no one to call.  

They gathered what little belongings they had and prepared themselves for the long trek home.

"I'm coming with you guys," Mikasa announced with a duffel bag slung over her shoulder. No one objected, mainly because she had a car. It was a tight and cramped ride home, but they managed to knock out the ten hour drive home in just eight hours. Needless to say, Mikasa was a crazy good driver. Crazy, because she was always at least thirty counts above the speed limit. Good, because she drove seamlessly, even while Reiner had initiated a sing off between himself and Eren to the soundtrack of Mikasa's Queen and Billy Idol mix tape. 

When they had finally returned to Duckwall, they headed straight to the sheriff's department to sort out their affairs. Naturally, the first thing the officers did was detain Mikasa for the kidnapping of the four teens. Eren did his best swiftly to explain that she had nothing to do with their disappearance, that he and his friends chose to leave on their own. He even added that, because of her, they decided to return. 

The interrogation lasted for what felt like centuries. The sun was already setting by the time they were allowed to walk free from the building. 

Nearly all of the townsfolk showed up at the department, waiting for the teens to exit the structure so they could celebrate their return. Not because the people actually liked them, Eren decided, but because there wasn't anything else to do. They were all just cattle that liked to play follow the leader, and today, the leader decided to welcome the four of them home.

The only person who wasn't there, the one person who actually mattered, was Carla. Eren's head became light when the fear of her not caring entered had his mind. He frantically searched through the crowd for a familiar face, and thankfully, he found Hannes near the center of the mass. Hannes, the man who had befriended his small family when they first moved to Nevada, informed Eren that Carla had traveled up to the state capitol in attempt to broaden the search for him. 

Deflated, exhausted, and ridden with guilt, Eren bid adieu to his companions and decided to head home. He invited Mikasa over to his place, saying that she could stay there until she felt like retreating back to her apartment. Carla always welcomed people into their home, so Mikasa should've been no exception. She accepted his offer, and off they went. He relayed directions to his house while she drove through the seemingly deserted streets.

Not once did she comment on the barrenness or size of the town, though she did ask what  _Irvin's_ was.

When Eren said that he had no idea what she was talking about, she flipped a u-ey and stopped right in front of the business in question. 

The familiar building that she had pulled up to made him laugh. It was one of the countless eyesores of the town, the neon yellow building with the black door having been dubbed "The Big Ugly" by the locals. It was nestled between the bait shop and the record shop, offending fisherman and angsty teens alike on a daily basis. But the building was one of the many vacant ones that Duckwall was known for, which is why the large, grey, banner it was currently sporting had thrown him off.

At the top of the canvas display, there were white letters that read  _Opening Soon_. The right side of the makeshift sign depicted a pair of claw like hands that seemed to be holding out a cupcake for the residents of Duckwall. The bright green frosting of the treat clashed brilliantly against the white and blue of the hands, making the banner effectively eye catching.

Eren let his gaze drift to the left of the somehow sinister looking design. " _Irvin's_ ," he read aloud in a whisper. For whatever reason, it felt wrong to say it any louder. "No idea," he concluded.

A sudden prickling in his skin made him look below the banner, and through the large window of the storefront. The glare from the sun mixed with the shadows from inside the building revealed only a wiry silhouette, but from what Eren could tell, it was a _person_ who was standing there. Their arms were crossed over their chest, and they were looking right at him.

The stranger, who had been standing stock still throughout the entirety of Eren's accidental staring, suddenly gave Eren one, very slow, shake of their head. 

As if the assumed newcomer were actually in the car with them, Eren flinched and pushed himself back into the worn leather of the seat. He looked away and prayed that Mikasa would resume driving. 

They were at Eren's house soon enough. The front door had been left unlocked, which made his heart lurch. The odds of the door ever being locked while he was off on his adventure were low. As expected, the house was empty. The lights were off, and the air was thick with the summer's heat. He apologized, but Mikasa said that she didn't mind. She had only asked for a cup of water.

When he went into the kitchen to get her a glass, Eren noticed a newspaper clipping stuck to the door of the fridge. He walked over and took the torn paper into his hands.

The headline read  _Small Town Mother Loses Son for a Second Time_. Eren cringed and decided to continue reading.  _Carla Jaeger, 34, mother of Eren Jaeger, 17, child survivor of the Prendergast Freak Accident thirteen years prior to today, officially reports her son as missing. He and three other unnamed teens have not been seen in their small town for two months-_

His stomach welled with shame. In retrospect, leaving a note would have been a wise idea. But would she have accepted his wanderlust, or would she have hunted him down right before dragging him home by the ear?

Two days later, a midnight knock at the door that was delivered by a police officer had made him wish Carla would do exactly that. He wished that she would storm through the front door of their house, tears in her eyes, scolding him for what he had done. He wished that she would give him a hug and say that he was a fool for doing something so stupid, but that she still loved him regardless. 

Instead,  _he_ was the one with tears in his eyes, pouring his heart out, telling a chapel full of strangers about the amazing things that his mother had done in her life. He wished that he could give her one last hug and say that even though he will always have a small sting of bitterness in his heart for her forcing him relocate, that he still loves her, regardless.

It took only three minutes for the mourners to flock away from the cemetery and over to the banquet hall where her memorial dinner was to  be held. Eren had stayed behind the crowd, lingering by the freshly sculpted gravestone planted into the soft ground that had yet to settle. Mikasa had stayed with Eren, though opting to instead lean against the nearest headstone rather than to sit upon Carla's grave with him. 

Somehow, Eren had managed to feel something other than sorrow while his eyes were creating a brand new ocean in the middle of the Nevada desert. The sensation of a hand was firm on his shoulder, though he knew it couldn't have been Mikasa. She was too far away. For a split second, he imagined the hand belonging to his mother. But something in his mind had told him better. 

A wave of déjà vu crashed over him, the vague memory of someone once telling him that he was going to be fine and that he had nothing to worry about began to cloud his vision.

Though this time, the voice had informed Eren, that _she_ was going to be fine, and that he shouldn't worry.

She was going to be just fine, and he shouldn't worry.

**Author's Note:**

> So I hope you liked it ⊂((・▽・))⊃ I haven't written an actual story (only pages long research essays, my friends. _pages long research essays._ ) in about four years, so my apologies for being rusty. If you feel like being a cool person, you'll let me know if there are any super massive mistakes, or even comment just for fun because comments are always neat. In return, I'll be forever in your debt, and maybe you'll even get a doodle or something for helping me out. Thanks~ And to anyone who is here for the eruri and who is feeling slightly wary, I can promise you that this story will not just throw those losers into the background. There's a reason they were listed first, damn it.


End file.
